Word: gruntings
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...frequently the scene of large conventions of various kinds of moral uplifters, in particular the Student Volunteers of America. The spirit of such gatherings is notably infectious. Hence, if the Register's temporary eschewal of lurid headlines loses the sheet no circulation, editors elsewhere are likely to grunt: ''Oh yes, in Des Moines," and continue to await the arrival of another Leopold-Loeb attraction for their display columns. Indeed, even the Des Moines Register tied a string to its promise. It reserved the right to print on its front page during the test week "any story...
...amount of grease paint will make Colleen Moore look very much older than, say, 30; that Ben Lyon and Phyllis Haver are both of the genus stuffed shirt and may as well resign themselves to that fate; that Wallace Beery can play a stolid soil-tiller to the last grunt; that Director Charles Brabin bent carefully over his knitting of deft acting into homely, racy atmosphere, until the final quarter of this film; then Director Brabin dropped the needles and cried: "Paste up the rest...
...Yard Dash.--First heat.--Won by W. R. Chase (H); second, Daley (E). Time, 4 4-5a. Second heat.--Won by Harley (E); second Grunt (E). Time, 5s. Final heat.--Won by W. R. Chase (H); second, Daley (E); third, Harley (E). Time...
...doze you can imagine, dreaming, yet conscious that I am dreaming, when, after delivering a kick at the door that nearly breaks it in, the noisiest man in the class enters, slams the door, seizes me by the shoulder, and wants me to go to walk. I give a grunt which I think ought to be a sufficient hint that he is not wanted; but, entirely unabashed, he gives me a lecture on the subject of exercise, saying that there is nothing like a fast walk in hot weather to take off a man's extra flesh...
...these I had waded through, my chum giving, from time to time, a grunt of satisfaction or more frequently of mingled pity and disgust, when my eye fell upon a poem. "Shall I read you this?" I said. "O, skip the poetry!" was his answer. "But you might at least hear the title," said I. "Well, what is it," growled he. I said humbly, "Lines to a Fading Rose"; it begins...